


To the Pain

by Python07



Series: If Looks Could Kill [20]
Category: Forever (TV), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crack Crossover, M/M, Mutilation, Period Era violence, Suicide, Torture - physical and psychological, inappropriate religious references, not gory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 06:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: Richelieu breaks Rochefort in a day, with a little help from Aurelian and Sophia.





	

Matins: Midnight

“Sophia doesn’t believe that you can break him in a day.”

“What about you?”

A cold laugh. “I know you. Of course, you can. He’s weak. I doubt he’ll be a challenge.”

Rochefort tensed when he heard the voices. The first was Aurelian and the second sounded like…He froze for a moment when he first saw Richelieu. Then he glowered and cursed through the gag. He pulled at the chains but let out a muffled scream when he jostled his injuries.

The lines of pain were heavy on Rochefort’s face. His eyes were red and puffy from the tears of rage and pain. He was still chained and gagged. His midsection was tightly bound to keep him from bleeding to death from the loss of his genitals.

Richelieu looked Rochefort up and down. He regarded Rochefort as he would an insect. “I see you’ve taken your pound of flesh,” he remarked to Aurelian next to him.

Aurelian held up a large jar containing Rochefort’s cock and balls for Rochefort to see. He smirked. “I was thinking of feeding these to some pigs. What do you think?”

Rochefort jerked in response. He bit down savagely on the gag. His eyes flashed and watered.

“The way he strut about court like a peacock, but look at the size of this. I wonder how many women you disappointed.” Aurelian put the jar on the floor, within Rochefort’s sight. “I suppose that kills any dreams of having the Queen.”

“Indeed.” Richelieu sighed like a teacher disappointed in a student. “Vanity has always been one of your vices, George. We should do something about that. Hold him”

Rochefort tried to fight but all Aurelian had to do was touch him in the abdomen, right above his groin, and it sent bolts of agony through him. He cried out against the gag. He didn’t put up any more resistance and let Aurelian hold his head.

Richelieu came forward with a pair of shears. “This won’t actually hurt if you just let it happen. Let’s say this is for the real Princess Louise. She was no great beauty but she knew her duty.”

Rochefort’s wail of despair couldn’t be clearly heard but the intent behind it was clear enough. He trembled as he watched his blonde locks fall to the floor. Then they left him and he reached up to touch the shallow cuts and few small jagged hairs left on the top of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered in dread.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lauds: Dawn

Rochefort snapped awake from a fitful doze at the sound of footsteps. He tried to climb to his feet, but the movement sent bolts of agony through him. He dropped back onto his knees, on the hard stone floor. He hissed at Richelieu and Aurelian.

Aurelian knelt down next to Rochefort. He grinned while Rochefort glared daggers at him. He removed the gag. He snickered and ran a hand over Rochefort’s bald head. He grabbed Rochefort’s arm. “It’s an improvement.”

“You’ll regret this,” Rochefort spit at them.

Richelieu gave that smug, superior smile of his. “I think not.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.” Rochefort snorted. “I survived five years in a Spanish dungeon. Compared to them, you’re an amateur, Your Eminence,” he drawled spitefully.

Something indefinable, cold, and terrifying flashed in Richelieu’s eyes. “You have no idea.”

Rochefort cringed. “When I get out of here,” he tried to bluster. 

Aurelian bared his teeth. “I told you before. You’re not getting out of here.”

Rochefort realized that he was cowering. He straightened his back and stuck his chin out. He looked at Richelieu over Aurelian’s shoulder. “You can’t do this to me. I’m the King’s favorite now. You’re dead and I’m First Minister, not you.”

Richelieu rolled his eyes. “And you’ve disgraced the position. Aurelian, if you please.”

Aurelian forced the mouth opener onto Rochefort and secured it in place. Then he moved behind Rochefort. He wrapped his arms under Rochefort’s and locked his hands behind Rochefort’s neck.

Richelieu held up the tongue tearer for Rochefort to see. He didn’t have to raise his voice for the cold fury to come through. “You seem to be laboring under a misapprehension. This isn’t an interrogation. I don’t need you alive. Any secrets you may have left are not worth knowing.” 

Rochefort’s eyes got wide. He squirmed in Aurelian’s hold. He didn’t have the strength or leverage to get loose. He only succeeded in aggravating his injuries. He cried out in fear and pain.

Richelieu stepped closer and leaned over Rochefort. “Thanks to Aurelian and the lovely and deadly Sophia, I know everything. It won’t be too hard to fix what you’ve done. You’ve really just proven to be a pest.”

Rochefort couldn’t move his head. He was helpless as the cold metal made contact with his skin. There was a sting and he already tasted blood in his mouth.

Richelieu leaned in close to Rochefort’s ear and whispered venomously, “This is for the Queen since you tried to destroy her with your lies.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prime: 6 AM

Rochefort curled into a small ball against the wall. He faced away from the horrid jar and his tongue lying on the floor next to it. He faced away from his pile of vomit. Too bad he hadn’t managed to hit either of them with it.

His mouth was in agony and the pain radiated through his skull. The pain beat inside his head and behind his closed eyelids. There was still a metallic taste in his mouth and dried blood on his chin.

His groin and abdominal area were still on fire. The pressure on his bladder was terrible but he had no way to relieve himself. He couldn’t move without making the pain worse.

He whimpered when Aurelian suddenly grabbed him roughly and forced him up onto his knees. He opened his eyes to see Richelieu looming over him. He smiled savagely, showing off his bloody mouth.

Richelieu’s answering expression was just as chilling. “Are you ready for more, George?”

Rochefort ignored the pain and nodded because this pain was nothing. He’d been forged in the Spanish fire. Just because these two cut a few pieces off of him didn’t mean he was ready to give up.

Aurelian wrapped his arms around Rochefort again and locked his hands behind Rochefort’s neck. “I don’t think he understands.”

Rochefort tried but couldn’t move his head. Understand? Understand what?

Richelieu studied Rochefort for a long moment. “You’re right. I don’t think he does.” He took on that teacher tone of voice with a measure of menace thrown in. “The Spanish broke you to forge a weapon to turn against France. I have no such intention.”

Rochefort didn’t break eye contact. //Then what is your intention?//

Richelieu smirked and wagged his finger. “No, that would be telling. We’ll know when you’ve worked it out on your own.”

Rochefort’s gut clenched. He blinked and looked away.

Richelieu reached out to touch the tip of Rochefort’s nose. “It’s time to finish with what was, I suppose, once a handsome face. For the King this time since you enjoyed leading him about by his.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Terce: 9 AM

Rochefort passed out, sprawled out on the hard floor. He barely woke when they came back. He heard them as if they were far away. He couldn’t get his eyes to open.

He groaned. He tried to move, but he was too weak. He tried to brace for Aurelian manhandling him, but that rough treatment didn’t come.

Instead, someone took his left hand and stroked his fingers. He sighed. He kept his eyes closed, reveling in the soft touch. 

His left arm was gently stretched out along the floor. He groaned again but the touch didn’t exactly hurt in and of itself. He didn’t try to pull away.

Suddenly, the grip on his wrist tightened, holding his hand still on the floor. He instinctively tried to pull back but the metal manacle bit into his wrist. Then there was a heavy knee on his arm.

There was a new pain, centered in his ring finger. He came to with a rush of agony in his hand, added to that in his mouth, in his face, and in his groin. His eyes snapped open just in time to see Richelieu holding up his left ring finger. 

Richelieu slid off the ring of office and tossed the finger to land next to the jar and his tongue. “For France, First Minister.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sext: Noon

Rochefort didn’t fight the rising tide of blackness and passed out again. He wasn’t awake for Aurelian binding his wounds. He wasn’t awake for being manhandled and chained to a chair.

The pain bloomed again, sparking pain throughout his entire body, when a bucket of water was thrown on him. He coughed and spit out blood. He glared weakly at Sophia holding a bucket.

Richelieu and Aurelian were just behind her. Richelieu stepped forward. “Sophia here is a shrewd negotiator, a woman after my own heart. For part of her payment for her help, I’m allowing her to have you this round. My only stipulation is that she doesn’t kill you.” He sounded professional, almost detached. “I don’t know what she has planned but I am intrigued.”

Sophia threw the bucket aside. She circled Rochefort. She laughed contemptuously. “Look at you. The once mighty Comte de Rochefort is now a bald eunuch.”

Rochefort’s eyes burned hatred. How dare she? She was the one with the mission. She was the one who failed and was captured. He was trying to clean up her mess.

Sophia smacked Rochefort in the back of the head. “You were going to kill me.”

The smack wasn’t particularly hard but it was enough to send another wave of pain reverberated through Rochefort’s head. He blinked back tears. He fought another wave of nausea.

Sophia circled around to his front. “Covered in filth and blood. It’s no more than what you deserve.”

Rochefort was helpless as Sophia straddled his lap. She patted his cheek. He tried to jerked his head away, but there was no where to go. She put the mouth opener back on him. Then she held up a pair of pliers.

Sophia tapped her chin, pretending to be making some momentous decision. “Which one first?”

Aurelian winced theatrically. “Teeth?”

Sophia grinned at Aurelian over her shoulder. “What do you think? One of the molars first?”

Aurelian grinned savagely. “One of the deep rooted ones in the back.”

Sophia turned her attention back to Rochefort. She smiled, venomously sweet. “This is for me and the memory of my dear Francesco.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

None: 3 PM

The pain was everywhere. At least in Spain, they’d given him a break. They didn’t want him to become too weak and succumb to his injuries.

Richelieu only seemed to care about keeping him alive in the very, very short term and making his few hours as painful as possible. He thought he knew the Cardinal. The man was cold, yes, and pragmatic and ruthless, but he’d never seemed this cruel before. The man usually had more of a purpose than this.

If Richelieu wanted him dead, why wasn’t he dead already? If he had nothing of value, if Richelieu indeed knew all his secrets, why drag it out?

These thoughts were only marginally better than thinking about his broken body. His manhood, his beautiful hair, his smile, and a voice that he knew was pleasing all gone in a few short hours.

He was still chained to the chair. The chains felt inordinately heavy on his battered body. He still ached all over and any movement inflamed the pain.

He tensed when he heard them coming. Sophia was with them again but she leaned against the wall, an avid spectator.

He tried to glare at them with all the hate he could muster, but the fear was there too. He was too hurt to hide it. He knew they all saw it and he hated himself and them all the more for it.

Richelieu tipped Rochefort’s head up and look into his eyes. One end of his mouth quirked up in a parody of a smile. “It’s beginning to dawn on you, isn’t it?”

Aurelian was right beside Richelieu. He bared his teeth. “That we are going to leave you with nothing but anguish. You will have nothing to build from, nothing to hope for. Revenge will even be lost to you.”

Richelieu tightened his grip on Rochefort’s chin. “This is for Treville.”

The fury was plain enough to see on Richelieu’s face now and Rochefort’s eyes got wide. He saw the pin. There was another burst of agony and then darkness.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vespers: 6 PM

Rochefort was groggy when he came to. He blinked but he could only see out of his right eye. He blinked quickly but his vision didn’t clear. There was only a sharp pain where his left eye should be.

He couldn’t move his arms, so he couldn’t touch his face. His heart started pounding in his chest. He let out a muted sound of agony and despair.

This time there was only one set of footsteps. He wanted to run away. Short of that, he wanted to curl in on himself.

There was more fear than hate when he saw Richelieu now. He trembled in his bonds. He couldn’t help wondering what else Richelieu was going to take from him.

Richelieu took a moment to just watch Rochefort cower. “George,” he said softly.

Rochefort groaned. His vision blurred and Richelieu morphed into a demon, straight from hell to torment him.

Richelieu cupped the side of Rochefort’s face. “It’s almost over,” he said with a kindness that seared through Rochefort and seemed to make everything worse.

Rochefort saw the pin again. //Not the other one.//

“For Treville.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Compline: 9 PM

Rochefort didn’t want to come back from the abyss. He didn’t want to come back to the pain, but he couldn’t ignore their voices. He remained still and limp. He didn’t have the strength to do otherwise.

“Is he going to cut off his ears next?” Sophia asked eagerly.

Aurelian snickered. “Not in to the pain. His perfect ears he keeps.”

“Why?” Sophia drew the word out as if she was a child deprived of a sweet.

“It’ll soon become clear,” Richelieu said briskly from right in front of Rochefort. “George, I know you’re awake.”

Rochefort moaned pitifully, but raised his head. He tilted his head towards Richelieu. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that he wouldn’t see what was coming. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” Richelieu said flatly.

//You might as well.// Rochefort jerked when he felt Richelieu gently free his hands and curl his fingers around two objects.

“In one hand, you have the key to your chains. In the other is a pistol. You have two choices. One. You can free yourself and crawl out of here. You can try to live as a beggar in the streets of Paris. You’ll be able to hear every vile curse and every piteous gasp over your deformity,” Richelieu continued relentlessly. “We both know you’ll never be allowed in Court again. Besides, would you really want any of those vultures to see you like this? Two. You can end it now. It’ll be quick, but are you willing to damn your own soul?”

For Rochefort, it wasn’t even a choice. He dropped the key. He held the pistol with shaking hands. He brought it up to his head and fired.


End file.
